Tragedy
by Guppy O Doom
Summary: AU: In the crash that gave Rando his new face, there were other passengers. What if not all of them had died? A look at an unlikely series of events that would lead to the construction of a completely new body, gender, and face of this unlucky passenger at the hands of none other than our very own Manabe. One shot.


_**Tragedy** _

By Guppy O Doom

* * *

A/N: An idea that struck me when reading some Pretty Face fanfiction; please, enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own Pretty Face, I also used a concept from another work on this site by _Calamity Cordite_ (please excuse me if I spelled it wrong) but she/he wrote another great work of fiction in this genre and it inspired me to write my own.

WARNING: A certain scene in this may be a little mature for some readers, so if you don't wish to read it, just skip the first italicized section, you wont miss anything to key to the plot.

* * *

My eyes rolled closed for the third time in the last two minutes, and it was only due to luck, a rolling head, and a persistently annoying sister that I managed to wake up again.

I glared with blood-shot eyes at the sibling in question; she smiled innocently back up at me in an almost believable manner… almost.

The bus we were riding in jolted again, lifting me a centimeter or so off my seat before gravity kicked in and yanked me back down with a tailbone-rattling thump. I grimaced and ignored my sister's inane laugh, instead turning to look out the window; watching as the lights of the city streaked by.

"Guwahahaha!" the raucous laughter split the air, causing me to wince yet again and turn to glare behind me, fixing my irritated gaze on the group of Japanese hooligans that dominated the back seat of the bus. Their appearance practically screamed 'thug,' what with their grungy clothes and outrageously dyed hair… as it was, I was surprised that their pants were still on, considering how low they were riding them.

They sat huddled together in the back, jeering and yelling all sorts of odd obscenities in a hum of Japanese that even I had a hard time following.

All in all, they seemed pretty useless to me… especially the one in the middle. You could easily pick out his Napoleon complex with the way he wore his absurdly high, pointed black hair; and combined with that idiotic expression on his face, it was hard to believe he could do much more than sit and grunt.

I still couldn't believe I lost to him.

_Years_ of training for a single moment. Coming all the way to Japan to compete in the national tournament in Hokkaido, dominating the competition and smashing my way to the finals, only to come away _second!_ And to a guy whose name is a Japanese knockoff of Randy?!

I still think he cheated; there is no way in the 9 hells that anyone could block that many kicks _and_ hit back at the same time… let's just say that right now more than my pride smarted.

"Onii-chan!" the obnoxious voice split the air, causing me to wince. I once again turned to glare at my sister. She smiled cheekily and stuck out her tongue before blowing a very wet, and very disgusting, raspberry.

I slowly wiped the spit from my face, staring down at her through squinted eyes before sighing and banging my head on the seat in front of me; sometimes being the older sibling was exceptionally troublesome… especially when your sister took every available opportunity to mock you in the little Japanese that they knew.

I looked to my parents for help but they were already oblivious to the world, passed out and dead asleep on the seat in front of us.

She took my temporary lapse in concentration to blow another one, this time right in my ear.

I whirled around, ready to fix righteous indignation on my sister, when I suddenly noticed something… it was quiet.

I cautiously peeked over my shoulder, looking over my raised fist, only to see _Randy_ of all people, smacking his friends upside the head; and in the rapid fire of muted Japanese that broke out soon after, I managed to make out 'shut up!' laced in between a few 'idiots!'

Shaking my head I turned around and sunk back into my seat, reveling in the silence… before something began poking me in the kidney.

I lolled my head to the side and fixed a blood shot glare on my irritating sibling. She smiled innocently back up— flashing a mouth full of shiny white teeth— before pulling back her hand and jabbing it into my side.

"Gwah!"

The next few minutes passed by uneventfully, well, uneventfully if you discount the muted beating that took place about halfway up the bus.

We rolled past several stops, the other patrons of the bus leaving one by one until it was only my family and the Hokkaido champion… I used the spare time to slowly plot revenge, thousands of delicious ideas spinning through my head about ways to make him pay… only problem was I still couldn't figure out where I would find the giant spider… hmm.

As the minutes ticked by though, even plots of pain filled revenge failed to keep my interest. My sister had just fallen asleep a minute ago, twelve hours without it finally catching up to her; and without the constant annoyance to keep me awake, I could feel my eyes slowly drooping closed. The scenery began to blur as my vision fuzzed out and began focusing on the glass rather than what was outside it.

My clear and semi-transparent face reflected back at me, revealing the pale hair and foreign features of someone a long way from home inside of this little Japanese suburb. The dark lines under my eyes didn't help my appearance much either.

I stifled another yawn as I attempted to stay awake, shifting so I was sitting up straighter.

It didn't help.

Eventually, the inevitable occurred; I fell asleep. But to the end I'll always wonder what would have happened if I didn't. Always wonder if I could have prevented what happened next.

Maybe we would have gotten off at the right stop instead of continuing on our oblivious and tired way; maybe I would have caused a couple second delay that would have changed the future.

I know in all likelihood that it probably wouldn't have made a difference; sleep deprivation was playing hell with my cognitive abilities and the hiragana on the signs had long since blurred into gibberish.

But I still always wondered.

The last things I remember— before everything disappeared— were the screams, the horrible screams and the odd sense of weightlessness that accompanied them. Before my addled mind could even conceive opening my eyes, my head hit something, and then I knew pain.

Horrible, body numbing agony that spread through me like lava before the cold embrace of nothingness overcame all.

(LINE BREAK)

_Beep… … beep… … beep._

The incessant beeping was the first thing to make its way into my mind, buzzing around like a peeved bee for a few seconds before stopping, only to return again after a slight pause. I tried to open my eyes, move; anything to shut off the sound, but I was just so tired. My arms felt like lead and my eye lids like thousand pound weights.

I stayed there, drifting in and out of consciousness for I don't know how long, until something else intruded in on my world.

The loud clang of something heavy ramming home. This seemed to do the trick and I felt adrenaline course through my body as my muscles came back online. I vaguely noticed the beeping accelerate in the back ground as my body once again began moving.

Fast as I could I forced myself into sitting position… and promptly fell back down, gasping in pain.

"Gwaah!" a startled scream split the air, causing my eyes to snap open. The world spun blurrily before me, spots flying across my vision as I slowly looked around. Operating on nearly will power alone, I managed to force my unresponsive body up into a sitting position, pushing past shuddering muscles and stinging pain to bring myself up.

"Whaa?! Matte! Matte!" a voice cried out, bringing my attention to the lab coat clad figure of a Japanese man who looked to be in his twenties… it was really hard to tell with them. His black hair was impeccably groomed, almost to a foppish point, and his fairly narrow face gave off one of those pretty-boy-esque vibes.

I took a second for my mind to switch gear from English to Japanese, but once it did I was able to begin making sense of what the man was saying. I could only make out every couple of words seeing as he was using complex medical jargon but I managed to infer the gist of it… I was in a hospital.

"Uwm—mph," I managed to groan out, words catching on my lips which had sealed together sometime in my sleep. Licking through the seal, I wet my lips and tried again.

"Wh… what…happened?" I winced at my voice, it was craggy and strained and— oddly enough— high. The doctor stopped his rant at my words and looked at me for a few seconds.

"A-ha!" he exclaimed loudly, causing me to wince, "So you aren't brain dead!" He gave me the creepy, false smile usually reserved for children and small animals. Then he reached over and patted me on the head. I would have swatted away his hand if I hadn't needed both trembling arms to hold myself up. Settling with what I had I simply glared at him.

"What happened? Where am I?" I asked again, grimacing once again at the odd tone that had taken over my voice; seems like I was out for a while.

"Where are you? Why you are at the grand clinic of Manabe! The most revered and amazing reconstructive surgeon of the century!" he announced grandiosely, flinging his arms out for effect. I felt myself sweat drop.

_Crazy Japanese people._ I thought

"As for what happened," he continued, "You were in a horrible bus accident, one in which almost every inch of your visible skin was burned beyond recognition." He shouted, almost happily; his energetic body practically bouncing in place.

I felt my head twinge in pain at that, some sort of half buried memory trying to surface… then the doctors words caught up to me— burned beyond recognition!? The alarm must have shown on my face because the doctor quickly began speaking again.

"Not to worry, not to worry. Dr. Manabe, the greatest name in reconstructive surgery was there, and after much effort on my part, I have restored your body." He announced, causing me to sag slightly in relief.

"H—how long have I been here?" I asked, scooting myself slightly so the pillows behind me were supporting my back.

"Oh, a little over a year now," he responded nonchalantly.

I gagged… a year?!

"Mirror," I commanded, holding out my hand, "Now."

Manabe quickly complied, handing me a small hand mirror.

It took me a second to really comprehend what I saw, and a few seconds more to confirm that the image wasn't just a picture taped to the front of the mirror.

Gazing back at me uncertainly, were the deep brown orbs I knew so well, but it was what framed them that threw me. No longer were there the hardened, chiseled planes of my face; now it was replaced with soft curves and gently lilting lips. A petit, upturned nose dominated the center and, along with the large and doe like eyes, it gave off the impression of a girl; and a very pretty girl at that.

The pale face and almost burnt brown hair threw it off though, bringing in an unattractive and sickly effect.

I was brought out of my surprise when the image suddenly started wavering, and I looked down to find the hand— the disgustingly slim and graceful hand— holding the mirror was vibrating violently. I attempted to stop it but the appendage wouldn't obey my commands.

I looked back up into the… the trick mirror… and frowned. There was no way this could be real, right? I watched as the girl in the image raised a trembling hand to her face, and at the same moment she touched it, I felt something touch my face.

The mirror slipped from my grip just as the doctor began speaking again.

"Amazing isn't it!" he proclaimed cheerfully, "Would've been impossible for anyone else, but not the great Manabe—,"

"What did you do?" I croaked out, shuddering at the high lilt my voice had taken on.

"… I fixed you—," he began again, only to be cut off.

"Fixed me…. Fixed Me! I'm a man! How the hell did giving me a girl's face fix me!" I exclaimed vehemently, struggling onto my knees and attempting to get into a position in which I could strangle the 'good doctor.'

"Oh, you don't have to worry about that." He replied, smiling brightly. Something about the smile caused my stomach to freeze over.

"…What does that mean," I asked cautiously, dread washing over me in waves.

"Well, as I said, nearly _all_ of you was burnt beyond recognition. You also suffered from major internal damage from external sources during the crash and it was, in truth, a miracle you survived long enough to make it here." Manabe seemed to grow serious for the first time since I had met him, "Luckily for you, there was a compatible organ donor who had just recently deceased, only difference was, she was a girl."

"No," I refuted weakly, looking down and noticing for the first time the tender bumps that adorned my chest.

"Oh, yes, quite the tragic story, found dead with no ID papers, so we never did find out who she was. But her loss your gain." He said flippantly, "Anyways, I got thinking, why stop at the vital organs? You had no future as a man, so I, being the benevolent being I am, decided to give you help." Manabe coughed into his fist and muttered something under his breath that I barely caught; something about a new experiment and wanting to test it out.

"Anyways, it was a complete success, none of the tissue was rejected, and due to hormone therapy you've even had a few monthlies since healing up." He was back to kooky doctor now.

Before I knew it, my hands found their way between my legs, only to come up on… nothing. I groaned to myself before looking back up at the smiling doctor and realizing… I had never wanted to punch someone harder in my whole life.

"Ma-Na-Be," I gritted out, stressing each syllable as my hands tightened into fists and a familiar sense of power came over me, the power of adrenaline and anger.

* * *

"**YOU IDIOT!"** the shout tore through the streets surrounding the building, startling several pedestrians as well as setting off a few car alarms. The squishing, pounding sounds that echoed out after, however, were much worse; and caused all those in hearing distance to wince and quickly hasten their pace and all men to clutch uncomfortably at their crotch.

* * *

I sat down with a huff, breathing hard and clutching at my chest

"Tch," I tisked to myself. This just wouldn't do; simply beating up a bean-pole doctor and I was so winded I couldn't stand. I needed to get my strength back up and fast, but judging by current standards, that could take months… if at all.

"Manabe," I said, looking over to the crumpled form of the doctor in the corner as I wiped the sweat from my brow, "You're going to fix this and you're going to do it now." I threatened.

"Mm-ph ah mmpah!" came the muffled reply.

"What?" I asked, unable to make out the unintelligible noise.

"Can't," the reply came again, this time un-muffled as Manabe sat up from his position amidst the destroyed medical equipment, pushing his destroyed glasses back up to their position on the bridge of his nose.

I felt another flash of furry course through me, but before I could lash out again he continued, "The surgery is permanent… you could _technically_ go back, but it would be very hard on your body— not to mention you'd need to find another donor." He stated clinically, fixing me with a dry gaze. "Something that I doubt will be very easy."

I gaped like a fish for a few seconds.

"B—bu—but," before I could finish my stuttered sentence, Manabe threw something at me; I nearly missed it— what with slowed reflexes and all— but miraculously, I managed to catch it. A large, crumpled up t-shirt. I looked curiously at him and thought I caught a hint of red flash across his cheeks.

"As much as I enjoy the show," he said, turning to look away from me, "You should have at least some feminine modesty."

"Huh?" I grunted intelligently, before looking down and finally coming to the realization that I was stark nude. Finally comprehending what I was looking at, my face burst into a spectacular show of crimson, and as quickly as I could I looked away. Covering up my front with the shirt I proceeded to awkwardly attempt to wiggle into it without looking… and I came onto a problematic realization; the shirt was so big I could fit my head through the arm hole.

I spun the shirt around to look at the size, a Japanese large (so an American medium); I was never, _ever_ that puny before. I looked questioningly up at the doctor, only to find his be-speckled face staring at me, or, more exactly, at a spot below my waist. I felt myself flush deeply as an odd sense of extreme anger overcame me.

Questions could wait; I believe another beating is in order.

Apparently the doctor had some preservation instinct, because he looked up just in time to see my fist connect with his face.

The satisfaction of seeing him crash into the wall was somewhat lessened by the fact that, not only had the punch left me tired, but it had barely done any damage! Manabe's own clumsiness and ungainly stumbling caused more pain than I did!

Huffing, I finished pulling down the shirt, the fabric falling to mid-thigh. Looking around I was greeted by a very creepy sight. Dresses, tons of them; all hung up on a wall behind a curtain the good doctor had torn down on his fall. Lace, school girl, sun-dress, and, wait… was that a bathing suit!?

I looked back at the doctor incredulously, only for him to stand up quickly, beaming.

"Oh-ho, so you've found them. We had so much time together while you were asleep, so I found you some nice cloths," he announced jovially as he bounded over to the wall, plucking off a yellow sundress, "You look particularly dashing in yellow—," his words were cut off by another fist to the face.

_Apparently_, I notice as the vein in my forehead throbbed dangerously, _Manabe has a particularly strong masochistic streak_.

Ignoring the wall of… _frilly…_ I strode over to the cabinets on the side and yanked them open, revealing a couple of scrubs. Grabbing one I pulled it on under the shirt, grimacing as the fabric pooled around my feet.

"Hey, Doc, why the heck am I so small?" I called over my shoulder.

"Why that," he announced, nearly giving me a heart attack as his disheveled face appeared inches from mine, "Is a good question…" he drifted off ominously, glasses glinting menacingly in the pale light of the medical room. I felt myself shudder.

As he pulled back from me, I began turning around, only for my head to suddenly burst into pain. Staggering forward, I felt as all feeling fled my extremities, only the thump of my feet on the floor alerting me to the fact that I was still walking. My vision tunneled in, and before I knew it, everything was black.

I gasped as my vision returned, disoriented for a second and blinking owlishly… before noticing the position I was in. I was pressed bodily against Manabe, his arms wrapped around my middle to keep me from falling.

"What the heck!" I exclaimed, hastily pushing away from him… hard. For a second it seemed like he wouldn't let go, then I was stumbling backward before my legs rammed into something, tripping me up and sending me flying onto my back. Luckily I landed on the relative softness of the bed, but it still hurt.

"Interesting," Manabe muttered to himself, stroking his chin, "Anemia. I wonder where that came from?"

Groaning, I added 'blood disorder' to my growing pile of maladies. Sitting up I was surprised when Manabe suddenly dashed over to the door, opening it quickly before slamming it shut behind him. Before I could blink he was back in, head peeking through the small opening of the door.

"Wait here for a minute, I'll be right back," he said, before once again slamming the metal port shut.

I stared at where he had been for a long second before shaking my head. Reclining slightly, I stifled a yawn. I suddenly felt tired, really tired.

Pulling my legs up onto the bed, I settled down, staring up at the white ceiling tiredly. As I watched, the room seemed to grow dimmer, and dimmer, until it faded to black.

* * *

_The world seemed to move in slow motion. I watched as the bus lurched around me, tossing me into the air and filling me with an odd sense of weightlessness. From my position I could see the whole bus. I watched as my still half asleep parents slid across their seat, surprise etched along their faces as they crashed into the isle._

_ I watched as my sister slipped under the seat in front of us, her small form slowly sliding down, slithering under in exaggerated motion, almost as if stuck in molasses. I watched as her still sleep clouded eyes stared blearily up at me in confusion._

_I wanted to scream at her, 'Move! Get out of there!' anything to try and help— but I couldn't. I could only watch as she disappeared from my sight, fading into the blackness under the seats._

_ Pain split through my back as the momentum carried me into the roof, knocking the wind out of me and sending spikes of fire hissing through my torso. I expected at any moment to be suddenly torn from the ceiling, forced back to the floor by the full wrath of gravity. But instead of that, I felt the powerful inertia of several tons of vehicle tug me closer to the roof, indenting my body into the aluminum as the bus spun through the air. _

_ From my spot above it all, I noticed with perfect clarity the events taking place around me; the look of surprise and fear upon the face of the hooligan from the Hokkaido tournament as he was slammed into the side of the bus by a piece of luggage. I saw as my parents tumbled across the floor, a tangle of limbs and contortions that shouldn't have been possible._

_ Time seemed to slow even more as I notice the view outside of the window. The world had shifted, the sun on the bottom and the face of a cliff on the top. Then the bus hit something, and I was spinning… spinning._

_ I felt pain and agony split through me as I crashed into the hardened steel of the bus's interior, again and again, until something gave way, and suddenly I was flying again, surrounded by a spray of crimson shards. My hands spun wildly in the air, attempting to gain traction, and stop myself, but nothing happened._

_ And then I crashed into something… hard. I felt as my ribs, already bruised from the fight, splintered under the stress, sending the most agonizing pain I have ever felt tearing through my body along with the air from my lungs. But the nightmare didn't stop there. Before I could even form conscious thought, I was rolling; for how long I don't know, but I felt as shards of rock sliced into me, splitting skin and removing chunks of flesh from my body as it tore across the ground. _

_ Then, as suddenly as it had started, I came to a stop, this time accompanied by a sickening, wet 'Shthunk.' I lay still for several seconds— stunned— before I noticed an odd sensation coming from my gut. Dragging my head across the ground, I managed to shift my view down my body, and was greeted by the bile churning sight of a sharpened coil of bent steel protruding from my stomach; odd pieces of fleshy, red still attached to it._

_ I couldn't feel any pain though; I just felt numb— and tired… very tired. An uncomfortable heat on my face made its way into my mind, and I looked up to see the flaming skeleton of the bus hovering above me, trapped between the branches of several large trees, just scant feet from my skewered body._

_ Hideous cracking sounds began to pop from the bus's destroyed hull, and I watched with an odd sense of detachment as the branches under slowly gave way…_

* * *

I woke up with a gasp, scream caught in my throat while I scrabbled at my stomach, trying to hold in my innards. It took a few seconds for me to realize that I wasn't impaled, and I wasn't anywhere near the wreckage. I fell back down to the bed with a thump, panting rapidly as my heart rate decelerated.

"Bad dream," the oddly sympathetic voice drifted in on my thoughts, startling me and bringing my attention to the black haired, be-speckled doctor who I had previously been talking to.

I just stared at him for a while, letting my thoughts sink in. He simply looked back, and for once, I was grateful for his silence.

And then something came to the fore front of my mind.

"Family." I whispered quietly.

"Pardon?" the doctor asked.

"Where are they?" I questioned, this time louder, but I only managed to elicit a confused look from Manabe. After a few seconds, I felt his blatant stupidity beginning to frustrate me.

"_Where_ is _my_ family!" I shouted again, angrily, before sitting up in a single, violent motion. I teetered dangerously for a second as the blood fled my head, but I'd be cursed before I allowed myself to faint.

"Hmm? Your family? Oh yes, there's still that identity problem to take care of." Manabe exclaimed, snapping his fingers as the memory came back to him.

"I… identity problem?" I parroted, confused.

"Why yes," Manabe stated, "You had no identification on you, and no one known was missing, so we couldn't identify you… yet another reason to give you a new body!" he exclaimed excitedly, beaming brightly down at me. I was so shocked I couldn't even find the energy to shout at him for the comment.

"Taylor… Taylor Bones," I said, startling the doctor. He just fixed me with another confused look, "My name. I was here with my family, they were on the bus. Where are they?" I demanded darkly, in no mood for games. Manabe just looked bewildered before recognition dawned on his face.

"Hmm, foreign name. Odd, everyone else on the bus was accounted for, but because of it there was a slight over sea's problem. An American family dying in the crash apparently didn't go down so well with the foreign press, and for a while we were accused of terrorism. Of course, nothing came out of it, freak accident it was, but it was still a big event… of course, the whole family was accounted for and family members confirmed their bodies…" Manabe stated thoughtfully.

I just stared at him emptily. I felt every fluid drain from my face, and an odd, terrifying panic surfacing in my chest.

"N-no… no," I denied, clutching at my head, "There must be some mistake, they can't have died, I was right there with them." I whispered to myself. I felt something press lightly on my arm, and I looked up to find the surprisingly empathetic face of Manabe hovering above me.

"It'll be okay, just… calm down," he coaxed quietly.

"Calm down," I scoffed, "Calm down?! You change my body, harass me, and then tell me this ridiculous lie and you want me to calm down?!" By now I was hyperventilating. I stared up at the doctor through wide eyes, "They _are_ my family, and they _can't_ be dead, I was right there, I was with them; there's no way that I could have survived if they didn't!" I shouted, voice rising to a hysterical pitch. It was impossible, they can't—no, it never would have happened.

I could feel my vision beginning to bug out as it became harder and harder to breathe; Manabe was looking unsettled from his position in front of me, holding his hands up placatingly and saying things that I couldn't hear. The odd panic grew; it seemed to be closing in on me from the outside in, slowly homing in on my heart, and then I saw Manabe reach for a syringe.

"NO!" I shouted, cutting off whatever the doctor had been saying. I darted forward frantically, latching onto his chest. My fingers sunk into his lapels, pulling him away from the syringe and closer to me, before I violently flung him away. The unexpected attack took him by surprise, and Manabe crashed into his medical table with a solid thump.

As he collapsed to the floor, I charged towards the door.

I felt something twist awkwardly as I wrenched the heavy metal open, hinges squealing in protest, but I ignored it. The world seemed to blur by as I ran— ran faster than I ever had before; down the stairs and through the hall and out the door of this building of insanity and lies.

_Something is wrong with that doctor,_ the thought hissed through my head, _there is no way that they could possibly be—no, it's impossible!_

I felt my bare feet pound against the asphalt, tender skin tearing under the sudden stress. My legs refused to function properly and my gait swung awkwardly, sending me reeling from side to side. I saw the startled faces of pedestrians as I sped by, crashing into as many as I avoided.

The buildings seemed to pass by faster and faster, and soon, I found it; my goal. The glorious beacon of truth loomed in front of me, its dull walls belying the majesty of its purpose— the telephone booth. I charged inside, slamming the door shut behind me and landing heavily against the inside wall. My legs tried to give out on me, but I refused to let them, forcing the shaking appendages to stay upright. I picked up the phone and frantically dialed my parent's number… and then the automated voice came on.

"_Please insert_—," I slammed the receiver down before it could finish; frantically feeling up and down my pockets, but, no, there was nothing! And then I saw it, the shiny glint coming from the corner of the machine.

Fumbling fingers hastily grasped at it, pulling the five hundred yen coin down before slotting it into the machine and redialing the number as fast as I could.

I felt my heart pulse as the seconds ticked by, then…

"_I'm sorry, the number you have dialed has been disconnect_—," I slammed the receiver back down. Reaching up I rapidly dialed in the next number. It had been a year after all, maybe they had changed locations? I was so lost I couldn't even notice the twinge of desperation and doubt that had crept into my mind.

"_I'm sorry—,"_ I slammed the receiver down. Next one… no.

Next one… no.

Next one…NO!

I slammed the receiver down with finality, breathing hard as the final number I had memorized failed to connect. No, no, it couldn't be true! It was impossible, why weren't any of the numbers working—

Then another number flashed into my mind, the only other one I had taken the time to memorize, my best friend's number. Faster than anything I had ever done before, I slammed my fingers into the buttons, the cheap plastic denting under my blows.

I wait… and waited, until—

'_Bwrriiing!'_ the ring of the phone echoed through the line; I had never felt more relieved in my life. But after a few seconds the relief began to bleed away, the number continued to ring, and ring, until I worried no one would pick up… then.

"_Yo_," the deep voice resonated over the speaker, refreshing me with the familiar vernacular.

"_Jaylin_!" I exclaimed hastily over the receiver.

"_Um, yeah_?" came the hesitant reply. I could feel myself sag in relief.

"I n_eed your help, they keep telling me that they're dead but I know they aren't, it's impossible right? I mean—_,"

"_Whoa there_," Jaylin cut me off, "_Wait up a second… Who is this anyways_?" I felt myself grow irritated.

"_It's me, Taylor, now stop bumming around and tell me_—," I began, only to be cut off again.

"_Taylor who_?" his voice had taken on an odd tone.

"_Bones, who else numbskull? Now_—,"

"_Shut the heck up_," he interrupted, his voice suddenly frosty and chilling, "_I don't know who the heck you are but this isn't funny. You don't play jokes at a dead man's expense. If you ever call again I will personally track you down and beat the s*** out of you, and then drag your broken corpse over to Taylor's grave and force you to apologize. On. Your. KNEES_!" a slamming sound echoed through the receiver before the line went dead, cutting off and fading to static.

The receiver dropped numbly from my hands.

_He though I was dead… he thought I was dead… which means—_

My brain cut off, refusing to fully connect the dots. I felt a painful crack in my chest, almost like something broke, then the wild panic that had been consuming me vanished, and total numbness overwhelmed my senses.

I stared emptily at the telephone for what seemed like an eternity, distractedly watching the receiver sway gently back and forth on its long rubber cord. Eventually, the faint _chink_ of money falling could be heard as the machine spit out the change. For some reason it sounded exceeding foreign to me, like it just didn't fit.

I don't know how long I stood there, staring; but eventually an irritated looking woman rapped on the glass, telling me to hurry up and finish. I obeyed sluggishly, muttering out a halfhearted apology as I brushed by. The world seemed to have changed, I could see the bright sun in the sky, I could see the dark shadow I cast, and yet I couldn't feel its rays. The warmth refused to reach me, and instead I was stuck inside a shivering purgatory of numbness and cold.

At one point, as I wandered aimlessly, I caught sight of myself in the glass window of a shop, bright signs popping out from behind my colorless image… and what a sad image it was. Disheveled, mudish-brown hair framing a gaunt and haggard face. The cheek bones protruded unhealthily far from the rest of the face, the dark shadows they cast showing off the deep concave of my cheeks. I only caught a passing glance of it, but it was enough to make me feel sick, churning my stomach uncomfortably.

I avoided looking at my body. It simply brought up to many conflicting thoughts, and in the state I was in, each new one only added to the confusing drone in my skull.

I only realized that time was passing when the sun finally dipped below the horizon, cutting off its cold light and allowing the darkness that always clung around the corners to take over. Still I walked, one foot placed in front of the other in a monotonous beat, leading on a path to nowhere.

I didn't think— I couldn't think— I only was; and existing at the moment was almost as confusing as the cold sun.

Eventually something strange happened; I fell. I don't know why, my legs just suddenly stopped working, gave out from underneath me and sent me sprawling in a silent heap. I didn't even attempt to get up. I was content to lay there, prone on the cold and lonely sidewalk, empty of all but myself and the darkness that seemed to spread everywhere. I didn't want to move, not really, it was nice here on the ground. Unfeeling and cold… nothing to think about.

So, it was with a sense of confusion that I noted an odd feeling coming from the side of my face. I tried to investigate, and promptly grunted from the unexpected exertion it took to reach my trembling hand up. But when it finally touched my face, I found that it was wet…

A sniffling sound pervaded the omnipresent silence, and it was only after staring blankly at my wet fingers for several moments that I realized where it was coming from.

'_Me? I'm… crying?' _I found myself confused for what felt like the hundredth time since I had woken up. Crying? I never cried, not even when I was a kid.

It was with an odd sense of detachment and surprise that I watched as my body curled up on itself, spilling traitorous tears that I felt no need to release. They seemed to seep out of my eyes slowly, rolling out like blood from a fresh cut.

And then the sun came.

I don't know where she came from or even how, but one second there's only me and the ground, and the next I'm being held tightly against her; and for what seemed like the first time in forever… I felt _warm._

Then the numbness broke, feeling rushed back in, horrible and heart rending. Feelings I had managed to repress until now, all attacking in an all-out barrage that I had no hopes to control. And then I started crying for real, I— who had never cried in working memory— cried.

It felt like something was crushing my heart and tearing it from my chest, and the only thing keeping me from shriveling into a dried husk was the light that was holding me tightly. I pulled myself closer, drinking in the familiar scent, one of rosemary and lilies. The one constant that kept me bounded to earth. I couldn't make out her face through my tear blurred eyes, but comforting sounds made their way to me; soft and soothing they seemed to push the pain away.

I felt her warmth growing, extending into me, and for a second, a flash of memory played through my mind. Long golden strands of hair falling around me; tiny me, peering up into the face that I knew so well, the one I loved with no restraints, and seeing the love and devotion that reflected back at me. I knew my place, I knew why and for what purpose I was here; because _she _willed it. And as long as she was here and wanted me, I would never leave.

But then I remembered, she wasn't here… not anymore. She was gone forever.

I think I cried more after that, I don't really know. I just felt emotionally fried, and when unconsciousness took me, all I could feel was relief.

* * *

This time, when I woke up I wasn't groggy at all. My eyes simply rolled open to the world, staring up blankly at the ceiling. Half faded nightmares danced around my vision, tugging painfully at my chest, but I ignored them.

Slowly, I pulled myself into a sitting position and looked around me. Where was I? I remember falling… But then it goes blank.

I distractedly shoved a few strands of scraggly hair behind my ear, moving them out of my eyes. It was then that I noticed a change… my clothes. The overlarge shirt and scrubs were gone, replaced with a loose pair of yellow pajamas. I shook my head before looking around the room.

The room I was in was quaint. Yellow, like my clothes, was the dominating color and it filled the walls, the closed drapes, and the thick sheets of the bed. Nothing particularly stuck out aside from how… clean it seemed. Almost like no one used it.

_Which, I suppose, is a reasonable estimation for why I am here_. I thought dryly.

Now I just needed to figure out where here was.

I pulled the covers off my legs, shivering as the chilly air danced across them. I levered myself up shakily, arms still fatigued and slow as I swung my legs off the bed. The motion sent the blood rushing from my head, causing me to pitch forward and clutch painfully at my hair as blackness swam around the corners of my vision.

Slowly it faded, and I flexed my toes experimentally on the floor before carefully standing up. I turned to look around the room; but at the exact moment my eyes locked onto the only door, it burst open.

In popped a black haired girl holding a tray of breakfast foods. She glided through door with practiced ease, turning to look at the now empty bed— only to stop cold. Her mouth hung, half open, with some unuttered statement.

For several long seconds she simply stared at the empty bed, before turning slowly to look at me; I noticed a plethora of different emotions rush across her face, everything from surprise to anger; and in the scant few seconds we locked eyes, I experienced an odd sense of déjà vu.

She let out a startled 'Eep!' nearly dropping her tray as she jolted straight. Almost faster than I could track she had appeared at my side, tray still wobbling from its hasty placement on the bed side counter. I had about a second to think before a crushing force surrounded me on both sides, and I found myself pulled into a very excited and very firm hug.

"Yuna! Oh gosh, I was so worried," the black haired girl rambled, "We found you all alone on the street and you weren't moving and—," she continued on after that, but by then I couldn't really concentrate on her words as my mind began to short circuit.

_Girl, holding… not related—doesn't compute! _ I could feel my brain frying as my cheeks burst into color.

"Um, I, ah—," before I could even begin articulating a sentence, I found myself half led, half dragged out of the room. I winced as she did so; the black haired girl had a vice grip on my wrist and I could practically feel the bruises forming on it.

"Come on," the girl gushed effusively, a bright and painfully large looking smile plastered on her face, "Mama and Papa are really eager to see you again!"

_Mama? Papa? _ I questioned myself.

Luckily, I didn't have to wait long for the answer; the trip was short, down a slender hall and a narrow flight of stairs and to our destination.

"Mama! Yuna's up!" the girl exclaimed excitedly, still holding tightly to my wrist. A head appeared rapidly from behind a doorway.

"Sweetie!" the cry of joy and gushy, touchy-feely emotion was almost enough to make me gag, and before I knew it, I was being glomped by yet another woman.

"Daughter!" another excited cry and another glomp, this time from a large man; I was now surrounded on all sides by crazy people hugging me!

"Ah—um, hey?" I once again failed to articulate a coherent sentence before the lady started speaking up again.

"It's so good that we found you, but what were you doing out on the street? If it weren't for that call we would never have known—," she bubbled worriedly, pulling back slightly to look me in the eyes. And then I felt a migraine coming on.

_Found me? Street? Mysterious call?_ I felt more lost than a kid in a department store.

"Um…" I inserted firmly, "I'm a little lost, could you explain what happened?" This gave the crazed family pause, and they looked at each other before the man nodded.

"Why don't we sit down in the living room," he said, his voice steady and warm.

We walked over to a couple couches in the middle of a modest but tastefully decorated room. The couple sat down on one couch, and I sat down on the other, facing them. The vaguely familiar girl with black hair sat down next to me, grabbing tightly onto my arm and refusing to let go.

I could feel my face going red again as I tried to politely remove my appendage from her grip, but, man, does she have a strong hold. My distraction was cut off when the man started speaking.

"Well, last night at around eight, we received an anonymous call. The person said to come down to the shopping district a little ways away, and that it was important. The caller sounded urgent so I went out, and drove down," he began, brushing through his meticulously groomed black hair with his hand, "But when I got there, I couldn't find anyone. So I drove around for a bit and found you passed out on the side of the street dressed in the oddest assortment of clothes I had ever seen."

He paused and gave me a concerned and searching look; I attempted to meet it, but something about his gaze made me uncomfortable, and I looked away. Then the woman spoke up.

"Yuna dear, what happened?"

And there it was again, Yuna.

"Who's Yuna?" I asked, looking around, confused. I saw a startle look appear on the couples face and felt the girl at my arm tense up.

"W—who?" the women stuttered out, "It's you dear." She said. I felt only confusion, before their words started locking into place; sister, sweetie, daughter… and then a memory popped up. Manabe and the mysterious organ donor, the one with no id, the one whom my image had been based on.

The people around me burst into commotion, throwing ideas all around at once. I made out 'head trauma' and 'amnesia' as a few; but my mind was far away right now.

What was I supposed to do, what could I possibly tell them? Their daughter was dead, and some weird, gender confused freak was wearing her body?

I felt the oddest combination of empathy and fear buzz through me. So far, my life had been too hectic to really dwell on any of my problems, but now, in the face of this family, I felt unbidden memories rise up; happy scenes that threatened to undermine my self-control. I had to act fast.

"Sorry," I cut in, refusing to focus on my depressing thoughts, "But my memory's a little fuzzy right now… could you please tell me what happened to Yu—er, me?" My words stopped the families ranting. They all looked at me, their concern burning holes in my wavering conviction.

"O-of course dear," the woman began, "…We had a bit of a falling out a couple years ago… remember?" seeing my blank look she continued, "We got in a big fight, and you were really upset by it. Believe me, Papa and I had no idea how much it meant to you, otherwise we would have tried to work something out. But you ran away, and you only left a note…" I could see the hurt that the woman still felt from this etched into her face, and I felt something contract in my chest.

"We haven't seen or hear from you since, which is why we're so happy to have you back," She continued, mouth turning up into a weak smile.

"Onee-chan, can you really not remember?" the black haired girl cut in. I turned to look at her and, suddenly, the reason why she seemed so familiar finally sunk in. She looked like me… the new me.

As I stared into the large, deep brown orbs in front of mine; the one that contained the unconditional love and worry that only siblings could have, I felt something in me shrivel… I had to tell them.

"… …" I murmured, so quiet even I couldn't hear it.

"What?" everyone asked at the same time, varying levels of confusion splitting across their faces.

"I'm not Yuna," I said again, this time louder, but devoid of feeling. This gave everyone pause.

"Of… of course your Yuna," the girl inserted, finally releasing my arm for the first time so she could lean back and look at me. "We have pictures of you all over the house, your definitely my sister." She announced assertively.

"No… I'm not." I began again, voice still quiet and forcing everyone to listen intently just to make it out, "A year ago… I was in an accident." I could feel all sorts of things rebelling inside of me, telling me not to go through with it. But I know that if it had of been my sister; I would've wanted to know.

"The accident burned off almost all of my skin, and caused major damage to my body, but I _miraculously_ survived." I let out a bitter laugh at that, "I woke up in from a coma a year later, just the other day in fact, looking like this." I gestured to my body, "But this isn't me."

I looked into the eyes of the family around me, noticing the varying levels of confusion that contorted their faces, and took in a deep breath.

"Yuna is dead." I stated quietly. Their faces lit up in shock, but I continued before they could interrupt, "A body came in at about the same time I did, one that they couldn't identify. It turned out to be a compatible donor for me, so the doctor used it to save me…" I trailed off, voice wavering slightly, "Since I had no ID either, and they didn't know who I was, the doctor used her face as a basis to reconstruct mine… I'm sorry." I ended hoarsely, "Your daughter's dead."

For a few stifling seconds, nothing happened. Everyone's face was frozen in their previous position, refusing; unable to believe. Then-

"Liar," the girl next to me muttered angrily, standing up abruptly. "You're not dead, you're right here!" her voice went up several octaves as her emotions became stronger; "There's no way my sister's dead, because I can see her right here, and she's right here in front of me!" She reached down and grabbed my face, pulling my unresponsive chin up until I was looking directly at her. She stared deeply into my eyes, and for a second, I thought I saw a twinkle of doubt worm its way into her gaze.

"Calm down Rina," the man inserted voice calm. He waited for Rina to calm down and release my face. After she had taken her seat again, this time much more somberly; he looked at me, "Are you sure? You said you were in a coma for over a year… are you positive you aren't just a little confused? You could be suffering from post-traumatic stress, why aren't you still at the hospital?"

I couldn't think of an answer… maybe the only way was taking them to Manabe. I was hesitant to do so, but looking at them now, he may be the only one capable of convincing them.

Manabe was cruel and inconsiderate— not to mention flippant, egotistical, and narcissistic— and I wanted to spare them the stress that was the crazed doctor. But I could see it in their eyes… they would never believe me.

"Let me show you," I said solemnly, standing up.

* * *

Not long after, I was sliding my way out of the worn leather seat of a black car. The small sedan had driven us to Manabe's clinic shortly following our conversation, the family only taking enough time for me to get dressed.

I led them through the battered doorway and over to the stair well; there was an air of forced optimism that surrounded the group. The family had attempted to start several conversations on the trip over, but each one had quickly failed and died back down into awkward silence.

As we mounted the stairs, I felt an odd trepidation overcome me.

_It's not too late,_ my inner voice whispered in darkly my ear, _We can still turn back, make up something absurd and just sneak out when they aren't looking. They'll never know, 'Yuna' will just disappear again._

I was disgusted by how attractive that idea sounded. And I paused for several long seconds at the top of the stairs, long enough for the mother to rest a concerned hand on my shoulder.

I jerked away.

"It's just up ahead," I said, indicating the large doorway. We walked up to the room, but before I opened it, I paused.

_Weird, I could have sworn I heard something…_

Shaking it off, I continued on, but when I yanked on the door, it didn't open.

Pausing in confusion, I tried again… and again… but the door refused to open. Panting, I stepped back, staring at the door.

"…I think it's stuck." I said. Rina came up behind me, looking around the room hesitantly.

"A-are you sure this is the right place?" she asked, "It k-kinda looks abandoned…" she trailed off as the ceiling lights flickered ominously. I looked around the room again, noting the familiarity.

"No, this is it." I said, "The door's just stuck."

"Here, let me try," the man I tentatively labeled as 'Dad' said, brushing past me to have a go. He set his foot against the wall and grabbed the solid steel handle with both hands. His pulled, muscles straining for several seconds before - with a crack - the door burst open.

The loud burst of sound that escaped the room startled not only me, but everyone else; and when I got a better look at what was causing it, I felt my jaw near drop off.

Manabe, the _professional _doctor, was spinning. Or to be more exact, his chair was spinning... around in circles. Accompanied by the excited 'WHEEEE!' he whooped out, it was a comical sight... or was it creepy?

I saw the pile of odd dress up clothes lying around him and quickly changed my opinion… yes, definitely creepy.

At the sound of our arrival the whee!-ing stopped and the doctor turned to look at us, head swiveling to stay focused while his chair continued its slowly arresting spin.

"Ah, Taylor-chan! You came back! I was so worried when you door jammed and I couldn't get it open, but now I'm free again!" he babbled enthusiastically, leaping out of his chair towards me.

Acting on reflex, I lifted my leg into the air, the doctor's face crashed into my foot, sending him sprawling. Sadly, he popped back up right after, looking none the worse for wear.

He quickly looked back and forth, checking out those I had brought with me.

"Oh? So is this your family?" he questioned.

I felt a sharp pain in my chest at his words, but I quickly stifled the emotion; now was not the time to mope over my own problems.

"No… they're not mine." I muttered dully, "But, I think I might have identified the mysterious donor." I watched as Manabe's smile dimmed. He turned to give the family another look, this time actually studying them; his smile never faltered, but I could see… something change in it. I couldn't quite place it, but it had lost that giddy feeling and somehow seemed more… reassuring.

"Oh, then I believe introductions are in order." Manabe announced animatedly, leaping up from his chair, "Manabe, PhD, and proud owner of this fine clinic." He said, reaching over to shake Rina's father's hand.

"Kurimi," the man responded, gripping the doctor's hand in a firm shake, "I hope we can clear things up, we're all quite confused right now."

"We'll see what we can do," Manabe said, clapping his hands together, "Now where to start—,"

"I'll just leave for now." I broke in, giving a hasty bow and turning towards the door.

"Huh? Wait!" Rina called out, darting over with surprising speed to once again latch onto my arm, "Where are you going?!" she wailed, eyes tearing up as she looked into mine. I fixed a helpless look in Manabe's direction; how was I supposed to convey my emotions? I couldn't even understand them myself. All I knew was that I felt like I was intruding on something… personal; and I knew I really didn't want to.

Manabe met my gaze and seemed to realize what I was trying to convey.

"It may be best if she does wait outside," he said, pretending to look thoughtful as he scratched his chin, "Effects on the psyche and all."

Everyone in the room fixed their eyes on me; sympathy and concern on the face of Rina and her family, curious excitement on Manabe's. Rina slowly released my arm and scooted back.

"Just don't go far," Rina's father said, fixing me with a soft smile. I attempted to return one, but all that came out was a weak grimace.

I quickly exited the room, closing the heavy door behind me as softly as I could, careful to not let it close fully. I stared at the cold metal for a while, hand still resting on the handle while debating what to do.

Of course, I could do what I had been asked and wait outside until the matters were all sorted out… but I could feel my stomach churning sickeningly at the thought. I don't think I could bear it when they came out. The accusing eyes, the anger; or even worse, the tears. I had stolen their daughters face… no, not only that, I had stolen her body. What kind of sick, despicably loathsome person does that?!

I quickly turned away from the door, a sick feeling hovering in the pit of my stomach. I had made up my mind.

Quick and quiet steps carried me away from the dark and haunting room, away from the family and the guilt that plagued me so. Soon, I found myself scuffling down a vaguely familiar street, one I recognized as the location of my original flight. I cringed at the thought and slowly came to a stop.

Glancing around, I caught sight of a small side street and quickly moved towards it. Dark, gloomy and damp. Perfect.

I noticed for the first time the pervading tiredness that seemed to be closing in on all sides, suffocating me under a blanket of exhaustion that I couldn't find the will to fight against.

It made no sense though, I had just slept nearly a day away and I was still tired? A bump of my head against a wall snapped me back to reality, and I noticed I was already halfway down the alley. Shaking my head I leaned back against the wall and slowly, thankfully, sank to the ground. My legs drifted down and spread out across the ground, hands falling limply by my sides while I stared at the wall opposite from me.

The brick and mortar began blurring, and my eyes closed slowly.

* * *

I snapped them open with a start, jolting and looking around me hastily. I was confused for a second by the darkness, but slowly my eyes adjusted, and the gloomy alley walls once again came into focus.

_What the?_ I thought to myself. I had only closed my eyes for a second, _when the heck did it become nighttime?!_

I stood up gingerly, grimacing as the aches and pains that accompanied sleeping in an alley came back with a vengeance.

I cracked my neck loudly; rolling it back and forth to dislodge the stiffness… all it did was make it worse. Staring down the gloomy lane I noticed the now active street lights, it must have gotten really late.

_I need to get home, everyone is probably worried_—My thoughts suddenly cut short. Home… where? There was nobody to miss me, no place to go home to.

_Manabe._

The thought struck me, but I discarded it just as quickly, I doubted he would want me there any longer.

My only family was across the sea, getting to them would be nearly impossible with my monetary and identity problems.

And, even if I got there, what then? Strange girl you've never met comes up and says they're your long dead, _male_ relative? It sounded ridiculous even inside my head.

Even if I did somehow manage to convince them, it wouldn't make much of a difference. My dad was an only child and his parents had died years ago. All the family on my mother's side hated us so that ruled them out. They were probably passing around toasts when they found out.

My feet plodded along thoughtlessly as I pondered my situation. Now that I had had time to come to better grips with what had happened and the shock had faded, I was once again able to apply an iron grip on my emotions. Emotion is weakness, a weakness for enemies to exploit; and in a world where you have so many enemies, you can't afford to show vulnerability.

Logical thought became much easier as I cleared my mind and tried looking at it from an external perspective. But even when doing that, I realized I was screwed.

No money, no family, heck, I didn't even have and identity. But I would cope, I always have; there is always a way.

My feet continued to move along, the short slap of my pilfered shoes on the sidewalk echoing through my head.

Suddenly, something latched onto my shoulder.

"Hey!" came the annoyed growl, "We was talkin' to ya'." I barely managed to stop my reaction in time, muscles tightening at the last second and preventing the motion from carrying through. I started at where my strike had been aimed, the carteroid artery of the '_idiot who had surprised me's'_ neck.

I jerkily brushed off the movement by running my raised hand through my hair, at the same time carefully extricating myself from the kids grip. A quick once over revealed a grungy teenager, black hair with streaks of blue died into it. The punk look was completed by the stained white shirt and low riding pants.

"Sorry," I muttered quietly, "I'm a little distracted right now." The apology seemed to throw him off, and he glanced behind him questioningly, bringing my attention to the group of three boys behind him. After a short pause, one of them stepped forward; this one was much better dressed. Blonde, slicked back hair; tight fitting and fashionable clothes, and that pretty boy look that girls seem to find so fascinating— he practically reeked suave.

"Hey, no problem, it was our fault… right Ryu?" he questioned, discreetly elbowing the boy as he did so.

"Gah—uh, yeah, wha' he said." Ryu coughed out, tenderly rubbing his ribs.

"No problem," I replied airily, "Sorry but I'm kinda in a hurry, maybe we can do this some other time," I turned around and began walking away, but pretty boy practically teleported in front of me.

"Hey now, don't be such a downer. The night's still young, why don't you come with us, we'll show you a good time." He said, pitching his idea like a salesman does his product. His eyes raked over my body as he spoke; it took a few seconds for me to realize what he was doing.

_He's checking me out… a guy's checking me out!_ I nearly gaged, barely able to suppress the urge to sock him in the face right then and there.

"Sorry," I gritted out around clenched teeth, "But I'm busy." I quickly shoved my way past him— or attempted to. As I passed, his hand landed tightly on my shoulder, squeezing with enough force to make me wince.

"Oh, I don't believe I said that it was an option," he replied darkly, eyes glinting menacingly as his other hand shot out to grab my wrist. Before I knew what was happening, he had pulled me bodily against his chest.

Oh _heck_ no.

Faster than he could follow I had broken out of his grip, wrenching the hand he had grabbed me with behind his back and applying enough leverage to snap it.

"Gaahhh!" he screamed, wrenching out of my grip in a fit of agony and stumbling away. I settled back into a defensive stance and looked out at the rest of his lackeys; they just stared dumbly at their blonde friend as he moaned and cradled his destroyed wrist.

"What the heck are you guys waiting for?! Get her!" he shouted, pointing at me with his good hand.

_Well, so much for a peaceful evening_. I thought dryly as they began to move towards me.

Idiot One was the first one to really get moving, rushing in at me with his fist raised high above his head and letting out what I suppose he though was a battle cry. Stepping under the telegraphed punch was child's play; as I did so I stuck out my foot, catching his and sending him sprawling across the sidewalk.

Then Idiot Two rushed in, this time he at least seemed to know some rules of fighting and came in with his fists raised. Sadly he was still years too inexperienced. His fist shot out in a decent punch, but a simple twist of the hips took me out of the way. He followed up with and uppercut with his opposite arm, attempting to catch me off guard, but a quick side step took me placed me in the perfect counter attack position.

I lashed out with a brutal front kick, catching him in the floating rib. Recoiling quickly, I slammed my foot into the ground and pivoted in a circle, lashing out with a back kick to catch Ryu, who had attempted to sneak up on me, in the face.

I took a step back just in time to see Idiot One running in again. I didn't even bother dodging this time. Leaping into the air I lasted out with a side kick, the full weight of my body slamming into his head. His neck arched dangerously as his head stopped moving, body continuing on until it too was snapped to a stop. He tumbled to the ground in a heap as I landed softly.

I gave a disgusted glance over the pile of bodies; pathetic men and even more pathetic fighters. I began walking away when a sharp pain split up my calf, I gasped and fell to one knee, my leg shaking violently as pain coursed through it.

_What the heck?!_ I silently cursed, clutching at my injured leg. I was brought back into the real world as I saw Idiot Two shakily stand up, closely followed by Ryu. I gritted my teeth and tried to force my leg to move, but the muscles responded haltingly, trembling and unable to support my weight.

As Two charged towards me, I launched myself to the side, punting off with my good leg— but I was a second too late. His fist connected with my shoulder, eliciting a loud crack as well as sending me spinning through the air. I crashed to the floor a few feet away, wincing at the pain coming from my shoulder as well my now bruised ribs.

"Heh, heh, not so tough are ya'?" Ryu taunted, sauntering over slowly, "Well, we was goin' ta be nice, but now you done an' made us angry. Now we gotta teach ya' a lesson." He ended menacingly, cracking his knuckles. I cursed mentally again, gritting my teeth and preparing for the next attack; then I saw something that shocked me. Idiot One was standing up again! Standing up after a direct _jump kick_ to the face. He should have been hospitalized by that blow!

My shock was cut out by Ryu's looming figure cutting off my view. Reacting on instinct and a little bit of—no, that wasn't fear—I lunged forward, driving my fist with all my strength into his groin. I was rewarded with a satisfying crunch as well as a high pitched squeal of agony. Ryu quickly crumpled to the ground.

I quickly lunged at Idiot Two from my crouched position, swinging in a wild haymaker in the hopes of ending it quickly… but he blocked.

Hissing I recoiled my fist, pushing into the ground with my good foot to give me some maneuvering distance. As I stood up, I clutched my arm to my side.

_Dang that hurt!_ _Something like that shouldn't have hurt this bad; stupid out of shape body!_ I cursed mentally.

Grimacing, I looked out at my foes; this was bad. I was already breathing really hard _and_ suffering from a handicap, not the way you wanted to be in a fight, let alone a two on one.

The Idiots were getting into position, spreading out to come on me from either side. Ryu was still rolling on the floor, but the sight gave me little enjoyment. I needed to end this fast… but how? Fate didn't give me chance to think.

Idiot One rushed in, belting out two kicks. Sloppy and inefficient they were, but I still had trouble avoiding them; being forced to backpedal and leap awkwardly to the side.

He kept pressing, forcing me to back up even more. Duck under one blow, leap out of range of another, my stamina was wearing out fast, and he wasn't leaving any good openings!

My danger sense flared.

Unhesitating, I ducked. I felt the air whistle over my head as Idiot Two's kick passed inches over it. Adrenaline coursed through my body, my breathing accelerated and for a scant few moments, time seemed to slow. Taking advantage of the momentary space cleared by his attack, I leapt up, slamming my elbow with all I was worth into his upper sternum. His back overextended from the momentum, throwing him off center and giving me the opportunity I needed.

Quickly, I latched onto his arm, yanking the staggering boy over my foot—and sending him crashing into his friend. The two connected with a _thunk,_ ramming into each other head first and collapsing into a heap on the floor.

I stood panting, hands on knees and breath coming in heaving gasps, sweat pouring down my face. The sheer exertion from the one fight was more than any I could remember, more even that Hokkaido. I began to straighten up...

A second. That's all the notice I had. Years of instinct converged into one point to tell me one thing. MOVE!

I twisted as fast as I could, just barely catching sight of the object streaking towards my face. Ryu's meaty fist.

No time to dodge, I had to block. I raised my arm, bringing it into position then—

I felt bile pump up my throat; at the same time a sickening throb burst through my head, chasing away vision and covering it in a concealing grey sheen. Black spots appeared all around, and then—

**WHAM!**

The fist tore through my defense like butter, bending my arm at an unnatural angle before colliding with my face. My vision completely blackened for a second; sound disappeared and I could feel nothing, then I came back to.

I had all of half a second to notice I was in the air before I hit the ground. Impact seemed to break me. It felt like my ribs shattered as the hardened concrete refused to give against my body, and then I was rolling. The world blurred again, this time I felt like I was being put through a dishwasher. The world tumbled and spun around me, over and over in a confusing display, refusing to make sense.

Then I hit another wall- immediately stopping all motion and bringing me to a standstill.

The first thing I noticed was that I couldn't breathe. Air refused to enter my lungs and I couldn't force them to work. I panicked, but I couldn't do anything.

For several long seconds, it seemed like my lungs were broken… Then I started breathing again.

The deep, shaking breaths sent pain spiking all through my body, but I didn't care; all I wanted was air— blessed air. I simply lay there, gulping in lungful's, as Ryu slowly stomped over to stand before me.

His ominous figure loomed above; illuminated from behind, the light cast disturbing shadows on his face, shadows that covered all expression. But still, I could see the eagerness with which he cracked his knuckles, doing so slowly and malevolently.

Panic burst into bloom in my chest and I tried to get up, then promptly fell back to the ground, gasping. Dark spots flew across my vision again and threatened to send me into unconsciousness, but I knew that that would mean certain death… or worse.

My heart started beating faster as that sickening thought burst through my head—all the things they could do to me.

Then Ryu slammed a kick into my sternum. It felt like someone had hit me with a baseball bat. Pain flared up my side and caused me to dry heave over his shoe. I didn't even have time to think before the second one hit.

Four kicks made their way into my side, each one adding to the damage as Ryu targeted the same place over and over. When the barrage stopped, puke stormed its way from my stomach, seeping from my throat in a thick, gelatinous mess. Bile trailed down my chin as I futily tried to choke down some air, spitting out chunks of who knows what.

Fear pulsed through me as I saw Ryu draw closer again, giving me the sudden burst of energy I needed to try crawling away. I dragged myself across the ground, fingers digging into the asphalt as I tried to move faster, but Ryu wasn't having it.

I let out a shrill scream as his foot landed on my arm, a snapping retort echoing from it as he did so.

He let wheezing laugh, smiling down at me; before pressing down harder and grinding my arm into the dirt. As he pressed deeper into the bone, I felt splinters of hardened fire shove their way around underneath my skin; the agony was unbearable, and I hacked out another pain filled shriek as he continued.

He dragged his foot off brutally, pulling half of my forearm with it. As soon as his foot was clear, I yanked my destroyed arm to my chest, curling around the awkwardly bent limb and pressing it tightly to my side.

I felt several tears spill out of the corner of my eyes as the pain seemed to magnify, throbbing horribly through the crack in my arm.

Another kick collided in my back, hitting me directly in the kidney and causing me to arch painfully away, I rolled over half heartedly, arms trembling as I attempted once again to escape, but it was all in vain. I saw his shadow fall over me and I knew that it was over.

"Now then—," Ryu began.

WHAM

Ryu's slow drawl was cut off as a foot slammed into his face, launching his bulky figure through the air. Almost faster than I could track, a blur sped across my vision, ramming into Idiot One with enough force to send him tumbling.

The blur materialized for a second, revealing a man with long, spiked up black hair. Then he disappeared again.

"GWWRRRRAAAA!" the battle cry split the night air, and just as suddenly, Idiot Two was gone, sent flying head over heels down an alley. A faint crunch could be heard as his body crashed to the ground far away, and the man, the mysterious figure who had saved me, stood still; shoulders moving up and down as he sucked in air.

"Rando…" a hesitant and fear laden voice echoed from just out of my line of sight. Then, suddenly, a faint scuffling noise could be heard and I tilted my aching neck to look up, just in time to see Pretty boy sprinting away, still clutching his arm to his side. Fast as lightning, the man—Rando— was on him, grabbing him by the neck of his shirt and wrenching him into the air.

"You know, beating up on girls isn't very nice," the surprisingly deep voice echoed from the black haired figure, "I think you should apologize," I barely noticed the threatening tightening of his fist around Blondie's neck, but Blondie definitely did.

"S—s-sorry," Blondie managed to gasp out between gurgles, scrabbling with his good hand at the iron vice clenched around his neck. I could see his face slowly turning blue.

"Well, don't ever let me catch it happening again… _Or else,_" Rando ended ominously, before dropping the blond to the ground. Then Rando turned around to look at me, but from my prone position I still couldn't make out his face.

Sudden movement from behind startled me, I attempted to scream out warning as I saw Blondie lunge forward- something glinting in his clenched fist—but I couldn't get any words out, only watch in horror as the attack came closer and closer.

Rando reacted faster than I thought possible; one second looking at me, and the next pounding Blondie's head into the asphalt. Three quick slams and Blondie was out for the count, knife falling limply from his hand as blood gushed from his destroyed nose.

I stared in awe, struggling to formulate a sentence, but words failed me. I stood their gaping until Rando closed the distance between us, and suddenly, with his tall figure looming above me, I didn't feel so safe. I was at his mercy; not only was I in no condition to walk let alone fight, but a battle with someone of his skill level would have been stretching my odds dearly, even before the accident.

I found my breathe hitch in my throat as his face came up next to mine.

"Rina?" came the questioning voice, and I felt his hand tenderly caress my cheek. I yanked my head back as if burned, gagging as bile rose into my mouth from the motion, as well as nearly passing out again from the pain.

My body spasmed sporadically against my will, refusing to stay still; I couldn't even move my arms, the traitorous appendages refusing to obey my commands. Then, before I knew what was happening, I felt two strong arms wrap around me. They hastily lifted me into the air and I cringed, waiting for the extreme amounts of pain, but instead of the jostling I was expecting, Rando raised my body smoothly, nary a bump on the way.

As I felt him pull me against his chest, I realized for the first time just how feeble my yearlong excursion had left me. I could feel his iron-clad muscles tensing underneath me, strong and unyielding against my body, and I realized... I was weak.

I don't really know why, but it took me a long time to realize he was running. I could faintly feel the slight bounces as he propelled his body across the ground, but they were like background noise, faint and unnoticed. I found myself fascinated by the shape of his face, from the position I was in, staring up at him, he looked mostly chin, an almost comical sight.

That is, until one noticed the expression on his face. I had rarely ever seen such determination; it practically lit up his face, accenting the grim set it had taken on. I couldn't help but wonder what exactly he was thinking, his obsidian flecked eyes expressed fire, and burning passion… but for what? I couldn't tell, but I did notice—with a sense of annoyance—that his image was blurring up.

Was he moving too fast again?

No, wait… it was me. The world around me kept un-focusing and refocusing in a disorienting display, and before long, I could only make out the face directly in front of me.

The last thing I saw, before unconsciousness claimed me, were two deep brown eyes, staring down into mine.

* * *

Rando rushed on ahead, heedless of the hundreds of odd passer-byers he nearly trampled in his haste. His mind, as of now, was only focused on one thing—getting Rina to safety.

He had no idea what she was doing out here, especially in this part of town when it was so late, she should have known how dangerous it can get. Luckily, he knew the location of her house… now only if he could get there faster!

Rando gritted his teeth and sped up slightly, muscles straining in a way that they hadn't for a long time. He risked a glance down at his precious cargo… and promptly cringed. Rina's eyes were glazed over, staring unfocusedly up at him in a heart rending display of pain and shock.

Rando growled, he really should have pounded those bastards harder, but before he hadn't known who they were attacking, or just how badly she was injured.

Rando carefully shifted her head, placing her in a better position for him to run in, and he promptly put on another burst of speed. He noted again her odd hair color, he was almost certain it had been black just the day before; he could only wonder what had caused her to dye it.

He shook his head rapidly, now was not the time for these thoughts. Rina's body was held tightly against his own, her soft and delicate frame seemed light as a feather to the trained martial artist, but this did nothing to comfort him. She felt like nearly skin and bones, had the attack really taken so much out of her?

Rando's frantic internal questioning was cut off by his arrival in the neighborhood he had been rushing towards. The sight of his destination invigorated the boy, and he put on another burst of speed, rushing by so fast that several of the neighbor's bushes were stripped of their leaves.

Then he was at the door and, quickly cocking back his foot, he hammered rapidly— albeit lightly— on the door. The staccato beat pulsed through the house, and instantly roused attention, but to Rando it was still too slow.

_What is taking them so long?!_ He wondered. Jumping back away from the door, he looked up, and caught sight of an open window on the second floor. Taking a few steps back, he rushed at the house, shifting at the last moment so that he was running up its side, vertical to the ground. Gravity pulled down on him, inducing an odd sense of vertigo, but it hardly fazed Rando.

Within seconds he was inside the house. Rando didn't even bother scoping out the room, simply dashing for the door. Just as quickly he was out it, and a frantic explosion of head movement found him the stairs.

A rapid-fire slam of feet on wood and Rando exploded into the kitchen, at the same time that Mr. Kurimi was opening his door.

"Kurimi-dono!" Rando shouted as he came to a stop, shocking the man half to death and causing him to spin around violently. He sputtered for a few seconds at the sight of the strange boy standing in his living room… and then he caught sight of who he was holding.

Rando watched as an odd series of emotions flew across Mr. Kurimi's face, some he recognized, such as shock, but others baffled him. For a second, he even he thought he saw disgust pass across it, but that had to be wrong.

The seconds ticked by like an eternity to the black haired martial artist, and for a short while, he was afraid that Rina's _father_ wouldn't act. Then, at last, another odd look overcame the Kurimi patriarch, an odd downward twitch of the lips and eyes as an unreadable emotion played across his features.

"Bring hi—her, over here," he said, pointing to one of the long couches that decorated the room. Rando quickly complied, laying down his precious cargo with the utmost care; shifting several of the pillows so he could delicately rest her head upon them. By now, Rina's eyes had shut, her face had taken on a sickly pale shade and she was covered in a slick sheen of sweat.

Mr. Kurimi pulled a blanket over the girl, shooing Rando back as he did so. Reaching down, Rando saw him check her pulse.

Mr. Kurimi gazed down at the broken girl—no, man—laying on his couch, and found it very hard to separate his image from that of his beloved daughter's, Yuna. Something in his chest pulled tight, and for a split second Mr. Kurimi was consumed in a mindless rage, his only want to beat those who had done this into a pulp… then the moment passed.

He once again felt the gaping emptiness in his chest, an emptiness where one of his daughters had once been. From where his hand rested on Taylor's throat, it would have been simple, trivial even, to snap it. A simple grab of the chin and a quick twist, the fragile neck would snap like a twig, much too soon for the boy to do anything.

Shaking his head, Mr. Kurimi pulled his hand from the weakened pulse, turning to the intruder who had somehow managed to come in from _upstairs._

"What happened?" he asked.

Rando was slightly surprised by the calm manner in which the Kurimi patriarch asked the question, he was personally expecting blind rage and lots of swearing.

"Oh… um," Rando stuttered out, reeling slightly from the shift in events, "Well, um, I found her out on the streets in the downtown district…" Rando quickly recounted the series of events, and in a rare moment of control managed to not embellish them in the slightest.

Mr. Kurimi's frown grew deeper with each passing second. Clearly, he realized, this boy turned girl had no idea of how to behave as his… assigned gender. Once Rando had finished his breakneck explanation of the events, Kurimi spoke up.

"So, you found… Rina, out in the streets… being mugged?" he asked. Rando nodded rapidly in reply.

_Well,_ Mr. Kurimi thought dryly, _at least he had the presence of mind to act._

Then, for a traitorous second, the normally kind and outgoing mind of the Kurimi patriarch maintained the idea of what could have happened if Rando had been just a _minute_ late… he was almost sickened by how appealing it sounded… almost.

Kurimi noticed the agitated way that Rando was squirming around, constantly glancing at the couch behind the docile 'father.' Mr. Kurimi for his part still couldn't bring himself to look back at the… it. It looked much too similar to his daughter for comfort; yet another chip in his already aching heart. If he concentrated hard enough, the labored breathing in the back ground sounded similar to the hissing of the air vents… well, if you took out the occasional hitch of pain and wet cough, but close enough.

"Well thank you mister Rando, I believe I have it from here," the Kurimi patriarch announced monotonously, reaching out to grab the boy by the shoulder and gently lead him to the door. Rando stuttered incoherently until he reached the door.

"W—will she be okay?" he managed to get out. Mr. Kurimi responded by slamming the door in his face.

He leaned back against the door, letting out a long suffering sigh before sliding exhaustedly to the ground. Today had been a very taxing day, and it was taking its toll.

"Daddy?" the soft voice intruded on his thoughts.

Mr. Kurimi looked up, meeting the tear streaked face of his daughter, Rina. She looked around uncertainly, glancing from the door to the stairs.

"What happened?" she questioned, rubbing her sleep encrusted eyes.

Mr. Kurimi stood up slowly, body moving in an achy manner usual reserved for people twice his age. He carefully walked over to his daughter, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close. He pressed his nose to her hair and kissed her head softly.

"Nothing, baby girl," his whispered out softly.

Rina tightly wrapped her arms around her father, returning the hug. They stayed like that for several seconds, then, a wet, hacking sound interrupted the moment. Rina stiffened, and pulled away slightly.

"What was that?" she asked, attempting to look. Mr. Kurimi refused to let go, still holding his daughter tightly to his chest, but Rina could feel the tenseness he had suddenly taken on, she could feel it in the way he no longer seemed so warm and comforting.

"Dad?" she questioned quietly, looking up at him with wide eyes. Mr. Kurimi stared down, stony faced for several seconds before relaxing and releasing his grip.

"Sorry," he said with a soft smile, "Why don't you head upstairs?"

Rina looked at him uncertainly, but something in his expression told her not to argue. Nodding tiredly, Rina reached in for one last hug, pulling her father in tight. She knew that the day had been just as hard on him as for her, possibly even harder. But she also knew that he wouldn't show weakness in front of his family, he loved them too much, and she was very grateful for the pillar of strength that he provided. So she whispered the only words that could hope to convey her feelings.

"… I love you,"

Rina pulled away softly, this time meeting no resistance. She turned around and slowly made her way up the stairs, not once looking back.

Mr. Kurimi watched as his daughter made her way up the stairs, a tirade of conflicting emotions playing in his chest. As she disappeared from his view, another wet cough echoed up from the couch, eliciting a twitch from Mr. Kurimi. He spared a dispassionate glance in the cough's direction before a thought made its way into his head.

'_I need a drink,'_

Ten minutes later found him sitting the large, stuffed chair in his living room, nursing a foaming glass of beer. He swirled around the brown fluid in the cup, watching tiredly as it sloshed back and forth.

Every once in a while he took a swig, using the short gulps to sneak glances at the inhabitant of the couch opposite him. Every time he did he could feel his stomach curdle.

The sickening imposter lay sprawled out, one arm hanging limply off of the couch. The pale limb trembled softly every few seconds, twitching spasmodically as it hung at an odd angle that no arm should be able to.

Grimacing, the Kurimi patriarch took a long drink, swishing it around in his mouth several times before swallowing. He reclined back heavily, breathing in deep as he stared up at the ceiling. He lay there for a long time, simply staring and thinking. He watched as the room seemed to spin and the darkness of the corners grew deeper. He watched as the world seemed to swallow him whole.

* * *

_"—dy!" the voice intruded on Mr. Kurimi's consciousness, pulling him away from the peaceful slumber he had been enjoying. He rolled to the right, covering his eyes with his arm as he attempted to get back to sleep._

_ A small and incessant tugging made itself known, pulling his arm down and jostling him at the same time._

_ "Daddy!" the shrill voice came again, this time accompanied by shaking. _

_ Mr. Kurimi moaned and rolled over some more. He felt a weight suddenly land on his side, wrapping onto him and refusing to let go._

_ He groggily looked up, blinking out the sleep from his eyes to find Rina straddling him, looking into his eyes with her deep brown ones. _

_ "Daddy, get up!" she shouted, fixing him with a mock frown that was so reminiscent of his wife's he almost cringed. _

_ "Okay, okay, I'm up," he grumbled out, picking up the small nine year old off his chest and setting her on the floor. She bounced around on her toes as he slowly got out of bed, jumping up and down in barely contained energy._

_ "Hurry up, hurry up!" she exclaimed, grabbing him by the arm as soon as he was up and tugging him towards the door._

_ "Whoa, hold you're horses' kiddo," he said, fighting back a smile as the girl did her best to forcibly drag him out of the room. She fixed him with her practically heart rending puppy dog eyes, staring up with a face laced with mock innocence and tears._

_ "Pleaseeeee?" she dragged out sweetly, tilting her head to the side in her best, 'Gotta get daddy to do what I want' look… Mr. Kurimi caved after about three seconds._

_ "Okay, okay," he pacified, "Just let me get dressed first." He almost laughed at the distraught look that split Rina's face._

_ As he made a big show of slowly selecting his wardrobe, enjoying the way his daughter twitched with each new selection. Rina paced back and forth impatiently, constantly looking up at the clock on the wall as she waited._

_ When she let out a particularly loud groan as he slowly pulled his socks on, Mr. Kurimi couldn't help but wonder just what his girl was so excited about. He quickly went through important dates in his head, but no, her birthday was last month, and Mama wasn't due back from her trip for another three days… so what could it be?_

_ As he slipped on his final sock, he realized he would find out one way or another._

_ Rina grabbed him by the wrist before he could even contemplate grabbing anything else, and quickly dragged him to the door. _

_ The energetic girl practically yanked him down the hall, pulling him across at record speeds. Soon, they were racing down the stairs and into the well-lit living room. Sun shine poured in through the open windows and cast the room into a friendly, welcoming glow._

_ Rina quickly tugged him over to his favorite chair, the large and cushy recliner. _

_ "Close your eyes," she commanded, pointing at him as he sat down in his chair. Mr. Kurimi raised an eyebrow at the commanding tone, eliciting a pained sigh from his daughter._

_ "Come on!" she whined, still bouncing in place. A small smile lit up his face as he covered his eyes… After a short pause, he slowly began moving his fingers so he could look through—_

_ "No peeking!" came the angry exclamation, and he quickly shut his fingers tight, chuckling at his daughter's antics. Then, a series of light rustles later._

_ "Okay, you can open now," Rina said. _

_ Mr. Kurimi carefully lowered his hand, peeking out and coming face to face with a carefully wrapped box. He tenderly lifted it from her outstretched hands, turning it around in his grip as he studied the hand colored, paper wrapping. A stick figure family stood across it, smiling and holding hand, each one labeled in order of height; Daddy, Mama, Me, and Yuna._

_ "What's the occasion," he asked, peeking over the gift to look at his daughter. She let out an exasperated sigh._

_ "It's your birthday Daddy!" she exclaimed, flinging her arms into the air for emphasis. Mr. Kurimi paused at that, surprise making its way over his features. He quickly counted out the date until, sure enough, he found his birthday._

_ A warm smile split across his face, a deep sense of pride coming from his chest; not because of his birthday, but because his kids had remembered it._

_ He carefully peeled back the wrapping paper, fully intent on keeping it forever. As soon as the tape was gone and the small, cardboard box revealed, he slowly, painstakingly began to lift the lid._

_ He looked up to see Rina chewing anxiously on her lip, practically vibrating with pent up energy as the lid lifted halfway. _

_ "Hurry up Daddy, open it!"_

_ Deciding he had tortured his daughter enough, he opened it all the way, revealing a carefully constructed pin. Carved into the polished wood were a series of beautiful Kanji characters._

_ 'Best Dad Ever' they read. _

_ Mr. Kurimi stared, open mouthed at the beautiful, painted gold inlay that decorated the edges and the careful gluing of the pin on the back._

_ He looked up to meet the anxious gaze of his daughter, her lip between her teeth as she worried it, wide eyes staring back into his._

_ "H-how do you like it," she breathed out, hesitantly. Mr. Kurimi continued to study it for several more seconds, lost for words, before._

_ "It's beautiful," he said, spinning it over to stare at the back, "… but, I think it may be broken," he said. Rina gasped, quickly scrambling over._

_ "What?! Where!?" she practically shouted._

_ "Here, see? Right here," Mr. Kurimi said, pointing to a spot on it. Rina stared at it frantically for several seconds before sitting back and slapping her father on the shoulder._

_ "Daddyyy," she whined out, "Not funny."_

_ Mr. Kurimi sat back laughing, ruffling up Rina's hair in a way that made her huff. He looked around for several seconds before a thought made itself known._

_ "Where's your sister?" he asked, looking down at Rina._

_ She smiled up at him, mischievously._

_ "That's a secret," she replied, grinning broadly. A banging sound suddenly echoed from around the corner, causing Rina to jump._

_ "Close your eyes!" she commanded again, jumping off her father's lap, "And no peeking!" she called out as she disappeared around the corner._

_ Mr. Kurimi shook his head as she vanished, carefully setting the hand carved pin down by his side before covering his eyes once again._

_ Slowly, a loud dragging sound made itself known. The scratchy hiss echoed across the room as it drew nearer. With ever second that it grew closer, Mr. Kurimi's curiosity grew, so much in fact, that he very nearly peeked._

_ Eventually, a tired grunting sound distinguished itself from the scratching, and not long after, it came to a stop._

_ "Open your eyes," Rina called out. Mr. Kurimi opened as commanded, and was treated to the sight of a very large box dominating the center of his room. It stood nearly as high as his waist and was about half that in length. Cheery, Christmas wrapping paper covered it from head to toe._

_ Mr. Kurimi cocked an eyebrow._

_ "Hurry up and open it," Rina shouted, hopping up and down behind it. Mr. Kurimi quickly stood up and walked over, kneeling down so he could better get it off. When he began to carefully peel back the tape on one edge, Rina snorted, quickly diving forward to help him begin tearing off the paper._

_ It quickly devolved into a laugh filled race, each doing their best to tear off the most paper. _

_ Soon, it was all off, and a cardboard box was left in its place. A still grinning Mr. Kurimi reached down and began to open it—_

_ "SURPRISE!" the excited shout echoed through the home, and a startled Mr. Kurimi fell backwards with an 'umph' as a black haired streak flew out of the box and into his stomach._

_ He lay on the floor for several seconds, a tight bundle of energy clinging to him… then he started to laugh. It started out soft at first, but soon grew into a full blown chuckle, then all out, Santa style laughing._

_ His daughters quickly joined him, Rina from the side lines and Yuna from her spot on his chest. He quickly sat up and pulled Yuna into a bear hug, swinging her around so he could tickle her. The young girl squealed and quickly burst into hysterical laughter, struggling to escape the searching fingers._

_ "Surprise me will you?" Mr. Kurimi questioned in a mock, angry voice, "Well then, feel my wrath!"_

_ "Nooo!" Yuna squealed, still trying to escape, "R-Rina!" she called out between laughs, "H-help!"_

_ "I'm coming," Rina shouted, charging in with a battle cry. Soon it descended into an all-out tickling match, everyone vs. everyone._

_ After several, laughter strained minutes, everyone fell back panting. They lay there for several seconds, simply smiling at each other. Eventually though, after they had all regained their breath, they sat up._

_ Mr. Kurimi, a bright smile on his face, pulled both of his daughters in, capturing them in a big hug._

_ "I love you," he whispered, kissing them each on the head. _

_ They both leaned in, wrapping their small arms around him too._

_ "Love you too, Dad," They giggled back._

* * *

Mr. Kurimi slowly woke up. Tears streamed down his face as the half faded memory slowly slipped away.

Frowning, he harshly rubbed the tears away; it wouldn't do his family any good to see him like this.

He glanced around blearily for several seconds until he spotted the clock on the wall. Two-thirty in the morning. He groaned and sat up, the empty bottle of beer rolling off of his chest.

His eyes slowly combed the room until they landed on the source of his misery. He stared at the form on his couch, frown deepening.

The shuddering had long since stopped, replaced by the troubled breathing of someone in deep sleep. Mr. Kurimi raked his eyes over _its _face, the face that looked so familiar, yet so different.

The brown hair that clung to her face glistened with sweat, and short clouds of steam hissed from her mouth into the cold morning air. For each second he stared at her, he felt another piece of his heart die.

Here was the person who had stolen his daughter, taken her dead corpse and mutilated it until it would fit his body. Here was the person who walked around as if he was someone he wasn't, as if he could even hope to measure up to the perfection that was Yuna.

Each second he breathed, Yuna writhed in un-avenged pain; each second he wore her skin, Yuna suffered another moment of stolen identity.

Mr. Kurimi felt his muscles tense in rage. Unimaginable heart ache tore through his body, as memory after memory of his beloved daughter coursed through his mind. With each second, every remembered smile, every lost moment; Mr. Kurimi descended farther into madness.

His blunted fingernails dug into his palms as his fist tightened, body trembling as mind raged against body.

He knew, somewhere deep inside, that it wasn't the boy's fault, that his daughter would be dead anyways; but in the heat of his grief, he needed release, and to him, there were only two ways to get it.

Mr. Kurimi staggered drunkenly to his feet, swaying dangerously as he nearly toppled. Steadying himself, he took several, short steps forward, coming to a stop in front of his small coffee table.

Reaching down he picked up the wickedly serrated knife that lay on it.

As his fingers tightened around its hilt, he paused. He slowly brought it up to his face, bringing it close enough to see through the gloom. As he studied the gleaming surface, he became firmer in his conviction. The blade originally meant for him would find its way into the heart of the one who had done this, who had caused his family all this pain.

When the blade lowered, the look of deranged fury had left the Kurimi patriarchs face, replaced with an even more frightening mask of complete calm.

His glassy eyes stared forward, and he staggered over to the injured body polluting his couch. His foot caught on something as he passed by, sending him to crashing to his knees.

When he landed, he simply stared forward, eyes caught on something they could not leave. Before him, at exactly eye level, lay the usurper; the piece of horror that had stumbled into his life and torn apart his daughter, torn apart his family, torn apart his soul.

But it was also Yuna.

As he stared forward at the person who looked so much like his daughter, even more so than her twin Rina, he felt something break.

Tears threatened to overrun the man, but he wouldn't let them, he wouldn't stop here, he would avenge his daughter.

Trembling hands slowly made their way into the air, vibrating heavily as conflicting signals told them what to do. Slowly, painfully, they drifted farther and farther, until they came to a trembling stop… directly above the girl's heart.

As Mr. Kurimi stared down at the face that had caused him so much grief, a single tear worked its way out of his eye, sliding down his cheek until it reached the tip of his nose.

It hung there for a while, simply shaking with the silent sobs of the man, until it came loose, falling in an iridescent display of fragile beauty. It seemed to plummet in slow motion, moving around and around until it landed with a plop, directly below the brown haired eyebrow of the boy turned girl below.

It sat there, glimmering, until it slowly rolled down into the corner of her eye.

Mr. Kurimi watched it all with a blank face, no more tears worked their way from his eyes, because after the first one had fallen, Mr. Kurimi was broken. The trembling in his hand continued, until, with a final, grief driven moan, his hands clenched tight, white knuckled furry holding the blade stead.

Down below the instrument of death, a single drop of liquid made its way from the corner of Taylor's eye, pooling out slowly before falling down her cheek, leaving a thin trail of salt in its wake.

/The End\


End file.
